His heart was pounding hard in his chest. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t worried—or panicked. But her face was so still and colorless that for one gut-dropping moment he thought she was dead.
He felt his chest tighten as he gazed down at the pale, lifeless features that had tormented him for months. First in mourning and then in rage.
She was so damned beautiful. The blackness in his chest tightened again. Her delicate features seemed frozen in a waxen, doll-like mask. Her warm velvety ivory skin was as thin and glass-like as alabaster. And the redlips that he’d kissed so passionately—that had enticed him in so many ways—were nearly colorless. But the tiny nose, the high cheeks, the delicately pointed chin, and softly arched brows were all the same. He’d traced them all so many times with his fingers, he would know her even if he were blind.
He had been blind. So blind.
How could such fragile beauty hide such treachery? He should want her dead. But the fear that gripped him told him otherwise, and he couldn’t hide the sigh of relief as she fluttered her eyes open as he carried her toward the car he’d hidden behind the barn.
“What happened?” she asked.
“You lost consciousness.”
“I think I have a concussion.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “You think?” he bit back rhetorically. “God damn it, Natalie, what were you thinking? You could have killed yourself up there.”
It made him furious just to think about it. It seemed only more proof of her guilt. She was so determined to escape that she’d rather go out a window with a concussion and risk a fall than face him.
He put her down gently as he fished around in his pocket for the key fob to unlock the door.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Back to the hospital.”
“Urgent care,” she corrected. “And they can’t do anything for a concussion.”
He knew that. He’d treated enough men concussed by explosions to be well versed in concussions. But this was different. This wasn’t one of his guys, it was... damn it!
His jaw hardened. “You lost consciousness,” he said, stating the obvious.
In other words, they weren’t talking about this. She seemed to understand his tone and got into the car without any argument.
She directed him back into town to the urgent care—which wasn’t far from where he’d seen her—and a short while later, after a little heated insistence on his part that might have involved a growl or two, she was admitted for another CT scan.
Fortunately there didn’t appear to be any swelling so the doctor who came in the room afterward prescribed rest and acetaminophen for the pain as necessary.
“You should watch her closely for the rest of the day, Mr. Wilson,” the doctor, a woman who couldn’t have been much older than twenty-five, instructed him. If Natalie was surprised that he’d adopted her false identification—or that he’d posed as her husband—she didn’t show it. It had seemed simpler when he was trying to get someone to help them. “Don’t let her sleep longer than an hour or two. You’ll want to assess her consciousness every time you wake her.”
Scott nodded. “I’m familiar with the AVPU code.” The acronym stood for alertness, response to a voice, assessment of pain, and making sure they weren’t unresponsive to any of the tests. In the Teams they used something similar but more detailed called MACE when someone had their cage rattled.
The doctor nodded, eyeing him a little closer and clearly trying to size him up. “Good. And don’t hesitate to bring her back in if the symptoms worsen or don’t improve in a day or two.”
Natalie had been unusually quiet, but she finally broke her silence. “Is my baby okay?” She looked as if she was going to cry. “I fell.”
Scott froze.
The doctor smiled down at her kindly. “It wasn’t a body scan, but I saw from your chart that you are pregnant. Your husband mentioned the fall, but I didn’t see anything to concern me. You aren’t bleeding?”
Natalie shook her head, not correcting her on the wrong assumption of their marital status.
“I’m sure the baby is fine,” the doctor assured her. “They have a nice soft landing in there. But try to take it easy for the next few days, all right?”
Natalie nodded.
Scott was reeling. He sat, glad there was a chair behind him to catch him. Natalie hadn’t been lying. Shewaspregnant.
“Are you all right?” the doctor asked him with a frown. “You look a little shell-shocked—like you were the one with the lump on your head.”
